


Fuzzy Dandelions

by SprungSick



Series: FOV: 0 [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, It's me just vibing and writing the wholesome duo okay, Minor Violence, Mmmm we doing world-building instead of studying shh, More fluff and worldbuilding than angst, More sparring than anything, Not Beta Read, Oh and Tommy is very nearly blind, Okay Im not coping nor am i having a great time but, Realistic Minecraft, That's just a given with me, The best your honor, This is literally just me coping with finals, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), kind of??, like very close, there's no end to that sentence, tommy & tubbo are best friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28064886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SprungSick/pseuds/SprungSick
Summary: Tommy's favorite thing to see was Tubbo's smile.It was a shame that he couldn't see much else.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & TommyInnit, Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Floris | Fundy & TommyInnit, No Romantic Relationships - Relationship, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Everyone, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Yeah yeah no we're not doing that absolutely not
Series: FOV: 0 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078319
Comments: 54
Kudos: 699





	Fuzzy Dandelions

**Author's Note:**

> Mmmm MmmMMMM I'm literally just running around vibing like,,, 
> 
> TW/CW: Slight self-hatred, minor violence, swearing
> 
> Tommy Cannot See What Will He Do

Tubbo was one of the first to ever treat him normally as a kid. Tommy had nearly run straight into him - despite his vision being better back then - and sent them both tumbling into the dirty bowels of Twintch city. Later, he would learn that Tubbo lived in the same alleys as him, lurked and begged in the same way he did. In that moment, he had apologized profusely to the doe-eyed eight-year-old he thought must have been a royal. He had given Tubbo a measly little dandelion plucked straight from the street cracks. 

Tubbo had grinned at him, plucked a yellow dandelion of his own, and refused to leave his side. 

Of course, Tubbo quickly learned of his predicament - of how he couldn’t make out anything farther than twenty feet away and could just barely get through his day-to-day life. He expected to be shunned by his new friend. His flavor of disability spelled death in a world of monsters and humans - no reasonably-minded person would associate with a walking liability. 

Tubbo simply shrugged and created a warning system only an eight-year-old could understand.

“When I click my tongue twice,” Tubbo stated, smile innocent and the only thing he could see. “That means that someone is coming up you. When I ‘bzz’ like- like a bee, you know bees? When I ‘bzz’, well- that means you’re in danger.” 

As they grew up together, they added more signals. 

When they ran away from Twintch together - tired of the city’s terrible conditions for people like them - Tubbo buzzed a lot. 

*** 

They made it to a small town eventually, one whose map showed many branching roads to other cities. By age fifteen, his field of focus had shrunk to a measly fifteen feet. He depended on his own quick reaction times and trained himself to notice certain noises - if he tried to mask it now, he could pass as just a particularly unaware kid. 

When they had to ask a stranger to read for them the signs - they could both technically read, just under the right conditions - they met a strange masked traveler who went by the name of Dream. 

They annoyed him into letting them follow him to his city. 

In the secluded, peculiar little city with the name of Dresempeh, they found their home. 

He managed to keep his condition hidden. Despite being surprised by things everyone else could notice - fuck, he’d managed to mess up in nearly every part of the poorly split land they called a city - no one had gotten suspicious. 

To them, he was just a clumsy kid with freakishly good reaction times. 

As groups began to split and tensions began to rise, he realized it was in his best interest to keep that lie alive. 

*** 

“Tubbo, this is such fucking bullshit,” He groaned, bringing his arms above his head as he stretched. Tubbo had sat them down on a scenic bench just off a sparsely-traveled path; he swore up and down that they could see a beautiful river from this spot - Tommy just had to believe him. 

“I know Big T-” Tubbo caught his eyes, their green only slightly fuzzy- “This is really fucking dumb.” 

Tommy threw his hands up in the air with vigor. “We fucking left Twintch so we could live peacefully, and now they’re asking us to fight over fucking city lines! Whoever decided that this was something to need like- like- physical punches and shit deserves a punch of their own, right in the-” 

Tubbo interrupted him with two low clicks, the sound sending him into a state of higher awareness. He concealed a snort when the memory of Tubbo calling for a horse surfaced - he doubted that his own impaired vision could ever conceal the look of sheer disbelief that came when Tommy arrived instead. 

He followed where Tubbo’s gaze was pointed and turned. The incredibly blurred form of a person moved a few feet away. 

“Tommy! Tubbo!” The figure - Wilbur, his mind connected - waved a vague blob up in the air. “It’s time! We need you at city hall and shit. I’m not going to wait up, so hop to it!” 

He stood up alongside Tubbo, watching as he shifted to pat down his formal clothing. Tommy thought they looked very nice on him. With a quick grin and a nudge, he began down the path into the blurry void. 

His mind raced as he continued to walk - with every familiar shape or sight, he had to remember what direction led to the next familiar sight. Tubbo had looked at him strangely when he tried to explain it one time; his constant decision making baffled the other, even with his examples. As one part of him focused on the breadcrumbs he followed, the other focused on the future meeting. 

“Can you go through the list of who to expect again, Big T?” He asked, remembering what the lamp post in front of him meant for his position. He preferred to not get blind-sided by the people in a meeting - expending the brain-power necessary to connect dots just didn’t feel worth it. Tubbo complied, his voice filling the air as they walked. 

Soon, he registered large polished doors. Tubbo opened them and led him into a world of noise. 

“We’re seated off to the side,” Tubbo hummed under his breath. “I don’t think they assigned seats, but everyone’s looking at us like we have spots where we’re supposed to be.” 

Tommy nodded minutely, weaving through the standing figures coming in and out of sight. A part of him felt grateful for the hall’s dark aesthetic - it made it easier to guess what blobs were people and what blobs were inanimate. Although, he knew he would soon succumb to boredom and forget to even try. 

Tubbo quietly pulled out his chair. He then lightly tapped the chair to his left, which Tommy quickly pulled out for him. As they settled in and other conversations ended, he studied what little of the city map he could see splayed across the table. 

“Alright, so,” Dream started, his voice settling what little noise remained. “We all know why we’re here, yeah? We don’t have to go through all of the formalities?” 

“All good over here,” Ranboo said from somewhere. Tommy realized that he must be transcribing the meeting in his usual corner. 

He whipped around to Quackity’s general direction when he cleared his throat, somewhat annoyed that he hadn’t seated himself in Tommy’s field of vision. “Cool. Because I’m here as both a representative of Schlatt and myself, I’ll list his demands. They’ll probably be the easiest to abide by, because, uh-” 

The sound of someone thumping their chest.

“- All he wants is for the area around his home to remain quiet and peaceful. He can’t deal with any sudden noises or bustling life. He really just wants the forest around his house to stay untouched.” 

“Doesn’t change anything then,” Fundy mumbled from across the table. His shock of orange hair just barely stayed in focus. He quite liked it, he realized. 

“Am I permitted to build a railroad to his home?” Tommy asked, slightly eager to contribute in any way. His railroads had become a bit of a passion project of his - not only did he enjoy building them, but they also meant he could travel more easily. More safely. 

When Quackity spoke, he didn’t need to see him to know he was smiling. “Of course. Encourages it, even. The big man would love an easier way to get to the city, the lazy fuck.” 

A rumble of laughter rippled across the table. Tommy felt a grin pull at his face. 

“Anyways. Besides Schlatt, we have a few other territories which aren’t being pulled into question.” Dream spoke up, a faint green mass at the head of the table. “If they may, please place your borders on the map at this time.” 

Movement swarmed around him, an air of levity pushing down in contrast to the colorful lines being placed around the map. He could just barely make out a bright red line of wool directly in front of his face. 

Suddenly, he remembered something he should have asked before. 

“Where is my house placed at?” He whispered, guilt rising with the blood in his cheeks. Tubbo wordlessly used his folded hands to point in its general direction. 

He counted a second of dead silence. Then a snort. 

As his mind connected the dots, he felt his mouth slightly part. Because, uh. 

Oops. 

“Do you seriously not know where your house is?” A dry voice asked. He whipped around to the blur of pink and blue, rage melting what little composure he had. 

“Excuse you, Mr. Blade. Some of us aren’t good with directions! Or maps! Or locations in general! Obviously not me because I’m the best person ever and shit- but, like, some people!” 

Technoblade merely huffed. Tommy took that as a challenge - to destroy him verbally or through combat, he didn’t care.

“Get the fuck over here you piece of shit, I will not stand for this- this mockery- I- I’ll steal your shoes and throw them in the river, don’t you even try me-” 

Chaos erupted in the hall, mostly directed at him. Unfocused shapes grew as they stood, several at his side and several at what he thought was Techno. He grinned - ready to wreak more havoc on the world - when a hand slammed against his shoulder. 

“Tommy, please do not,” Tubbo pleaded, using their closeness to show the exasperation on his face. 

“Why not?” 

“The hall looks nice and I don’t want you to ruin it.” 

Well, he couldn’t argue with that logic. 

Tommy sighed and settled back into his seat - not before throwing a quick glare at where he guessed Techno was. He saw Tubbo’s lips pull into a faint smile as he relaxed. 

“What? That’s seriously all it takes? Holy shit, Tommy’s a wuss-” 

“Anyways!” Dream yelled out with a clap, interrupting Tommy’s incensed response. “Before we move onto the, uh, issue territories - does anyone want to dispute the borders already laid out?” 

Silence. Tommy picked at the table’s wood. 

“Alright then. Onto the territories currently causing a conflict.” 

Tommy looked up just in time to see the beginnings of an argument. The sounds of rising anger - although he knew they would soon bite him in the ass - should have felt wonderful against his bored mind. As a creature of conflict, he should have reveled in the fighting. 

He glanced at Tubbo, watching as his mouth set into a grim line. 

Dread pooled in his gut. 

*** 

He fucked up. 

He fucked up bad. 

Turns out, promising to duel Technoblade in the middle of a heated discussion wasn’t a great idea. 

God, he didn’t even remember why he did it. After the fighting started, everything had become one big blur. 

Heh, blur. 

“Tubbo, why did I fucking do that?” He murmured, arm slung across his eyes to blind him even further. The couch he had thrown himself across sunk with his weight. 

Tubbo rustled around, the sound similar to when he tried to take off his tie. “Not sure, bud. Not sure.” 

He froze at the weariness in his friend’s voice. 

“Are you okay?” He asked hesitantly, pushing himself off the couch to spot Tubbo leaning heavily against his table. After a few steps forward, he noticed the creases etched into Tubbo’s forehead. 

“Maybe,” Tubbo shrugged, a poor attempt at nonchalance. “It’s- it’s fine.” 

“You sure about that? You look pretty fucking stressed, Big T.” 

Tubbo didn’t respond, going back to fiddling with his clothing. He took that as his opportunity to sweep into Tubbo’s kitchen - with a quick flick of the stove and a run of the tap, he had water boiling for some tea. 

Just as he took the tea leaves out from the cabinet, he felt a weight press into his shoulder. 

“This is too much,” Tubbo whispered angrily. “We’re just- we’re just some alley kids- why are they asking us to give input on city lines and shit?” 

Tommy hummed in agreeance, careful to not break the contact. He heard Tubbo’s breath hitch against his shoulder. 

“We can’t- I can’t do this. They say it’s just city lines but they’re really asking us to pick a faction, aren’t they? This is all just their way to bring more people under their power. God, I don’t want to play this stupid fucking game.” 

A pause. The kettle whistled vaguely in the background. 

“And now you’re going to fight Technoblade. Fucking Technoblade. The man that may or may not be the emperor of the fabled Antarctic Empire.” 

“It won’t be that bad-” 

“Won’t it?” Tubbo cut in sharply. “Tommy, you can barely see the other side of a room, much less your opponent at a distance. If Technoblade realizes you’re shit at everything but melee, you’re screwed.” 

He knew his hands stretched in front of him awkwardly, yet he refused to set them down. Instead, he focused on the labored breaths behind him and let an idea form. 

“What is this duel all about?” He asked suddenly. Tubbo froze before burrowing deeper into his shoulder blade. 

“It’s a series of fights, basically-” Tubbo took a breath and wrapped his arms in a loose hug- “You- you wanted to fight for ‘your honor’, dumbass. Other representatives piled on to make a sort of tournament. I think- I think it’s going to be a lot more serious than you intended.” 

Tommy listened carefully to his friend’s quaking voice, suddenly frustrated with the tin preventing him from turning and reciprocating. “What happens to the winner?” 

“They get bragging rights. But- I guess- they also have an advantage for their faction. Maybe.” 

He stared ahead, glaring at the blurred kitchen walls which mocked him with their clarity. Determination seeped into his bones, the emotion clenching his chest and pulling down the edges of his mouth. Slowly, he brought his hand down to grip Tubbo’s arm. 

“I’ll fight,” He said suddenly, the vitriol in his voice causing pause. Tubbo huffed and held on tighter.

“That was never the question Big Man. If you chickened out, I think Techno would have personally escorted you into- into pain central.”

“I’ll fight,” He continued. “It won’t be pretty. I’ll pull all of the tricks that we did back in Twintch - Techno won’t ever stand a chance.”

“Why?” 

Heat built in his throat, spilling up into his eyes and his words. “These people are fucking bullshit. They need to get their heads out of their asses before everything falls apart. 

“Tubbo-” He motioned to his blurry surroundings- “I don’t want to fight for these people. They weren’t with us when we had to fight just to eat, or when we had to live with one coin each, or when- when we had to trade our labor so we wouldn’t die from the cold- they weren’t there. They never were.” 

He exhaled quietly, ignoring the growing whistle of the kettle. “I love them, I really do. I know that in the end, I would probably die for them. But Tubbo-” 

Finally, he turned around and placed both the tin and his hand on Tubbo’s shoulders. He met Tubbo’s eyes. 

Tubbo, the one who grinned in spite of the growing weight of his responsibilities. Tubbo, the one who read him all the too-small text even with his own struggles with words. Tubbo, the one who uprooted his destiny alongside that dandelion all those years ago. 

“I’ll fight for you. I’ll fight for you no matter what.” 

He let the words hang, let them sink into their skin. A promise, a bond - one he would never breach. 

“Next week, I won’t fight for any group. None of it. None of that bullshit.” 

He watched Tubbo’s eyes go glossy, his face breaking into something vulnerable. Despite it all, he felt himself grin. 

“I’ll fight for us. And fuck it, I’m going to win.” 

*** 

Exactly one week later, Tubbo led him to a clearing - one of the fields they used to frequent. At the sight of new colors hanging from the sky and rows of brown he assumed to be seats, he grimaced - he didn’t like changes in his environment. It always took him longer to process. 

Tubbo distractedly waved to which seat he would be spectating from, more focused on rambling about his grocery list. An obnoxiously bright yellow sash hung from his hands.

Just as he was about to ask for everyone’s general locations, Tubbo hurriedly clicked twice. 

“Alright, now that everyone is here,” Dream shouted, his voice echoing over the field. “Let’s get started!” 

A round of cheers. God, it sounded as if nearly everyone had attended. 

Tubbo tugged at his hand and led him to the seats as Dream spoke up again. “Before we get into anything too serious, let’s get a few ground rules down.

“First-” Through the low chatter around him, he heard a knock on wood- “Is the basics. The tournament will be using a single-elimination method with three rounds per pairing, the victors being pitted against each other as we go.” 

“He’s pointing to a sign with all of the matchups. Your first opponent is Techno,” Tubbo muttered under his breath. No one else on their bench seemed to hear him. 

“No armor is permitted and only wooden weapons. If someone attempts to fight with a sharpened or metal weapon, they will be charged and punished accordingly. The round ends when one person is deemed immobilized, surrendered, or is unable to continue fighting. If a contender is deemed unable to fight due to an injury caused by their opponent, both contenders are disqualified.” 

He stared across the plain of green and light blue, fingers tightening around the handle in his pocket. 

“Now, with all of that out of the way- let’s bring in our first two contenders!” 

As various chants arose for Skeppy and Quackity, a knot grew in his stomach. 

Instead of pretending to watch their fight, he elected to lean back and close his eyes - the frenzied yells around him did little to settle his growing dread. His heart pounded painfully against his breastbone, nerves buzzing so desperately he couldn’t keep still. 

He had to focus on winning. On Tubbo. 

An uproar nearly shattered his ears. It seemed that Skeppy won his fights - the fact did little to ease him, the clenching in his chest growing tighter. 

“Good job Skeppy! Next up, we have Techno and Tommy against each other.” 

He couldn’t breathe. The panic clenched his throat, clenched his thoughts. Numbly, he allowed Tubbo to grab his arm and guide him up. 

“You’re going to do great, Tommy. You’re going to do really good.” Despite his assuring words cutting through the noise, Tubbo wouldn’t look him in the eyes. He elected to take a forceful breath. 

“Of course I will,” He tried for a grin, eyes flicking to the clear grass below his feet. “I told you I would win, so I’m going to.” 

“What, do you need Tubbo to guide you around?” Someone sneered. Tommy’s head quickly shot up, only barely making out a splash of pink in the overwhelming blue - Tubbo brought him to a stop, pat his shoulder, and walked away with crunching steps. 

He took another measured breath, alone. A plan repeated in his head. If he was going to beat Techno without a sudden miracle, he needed to follow each step exactly. 

Step one - locate Techno. 

“Of course not.” He made sure to keep his voice loud and aggravating. “You’re just jealous that I have friends who want to encourage me before my fights! I can’t imagine being- like- alone like you, it must fucking stink!” 

“Encourage? Or pity?” Techno replied dryly, unaware of how he mentally clocked in the distance and direction of the sound. 

“Encourage, obviously! What kind of fucking-” 

Dream cut into their conversation. At a distance, the shouting compounded with the furious thumping in his ears. 

“Round two - Techno versus Tommy - will begin in three-” 

He took a deep breath, keeping his eyes trained on the direction he needed to run. 

“Two-” 

Instincts melted into his hands, his mind wiping into a detached blank. 

“One-” 

For Tubbo, he thought. For Tubbo. 

“Start!” 

With his heart pumping a tempo for his practically-blind steps, he sprinted forward. 

Almost immediately, he saw the steadily growing form take a few steps back - a frontal rush like his was an idiotic and unexpected move. The thought sent energy into his wild grin; he couldn’t do much else except be reckless. He forced himself to gain in speed, his feet slamming harder into the ground as he ran. The cheers of his friends drowned out any other sounds. 

He finally could see the whites of Techno’s eyes, could see them widened in confusion as he gripped his wooden staff. With a cry, he launched himself forward. 

Step two - attach to Techno. 

“What the fuck are you-” 

The wooden dagger rested comfortably in his hands, wood soothing as he yanked it out of his pocket and stabbed it into his abdomen. Obviously, Techno predicted that - his staff slammed down onto his wrist before he made it even close. He quickly took control of the situation, redirecting the stick’s end to make it swing brutally into his side. 

He dropped low and braced his hands against the grass. His yell ripped his throat as he slammed into Techno’s middle. 

“Are you trying to grapple me?” Techno snorted, bracing his legs and trapping his back with his staff. “Give it up- we both know I’m better both on the ground and in actual fights.” 

In lieu of an answer, he locked his wrists and buried his face into Techno’s ribs. 

Techno seemed almost jovial at the action - his words lilted more amusedly and the wood against his spine pressed only slightly. “Awe, are you hugging me? Does this count as a surrender? I-” 

He swooped his leg forward. His heel hooked in and struck the fleshy inside of Techno’s knee. 

They fell into the grass at an awkwardly slow pace - Techno eventually landed on his hands and knees, staff laying uselessly against the ground. He used that time to scrabble his legs over Techno’s thighs and around his waist, clutching like a deranged bear. He squeezed. 

For a glorious moment, his only support was the confused opponent he had latched onto. It only lasted for a breath.

“What the fuck- stop clinging to me, this isn’t how you fight-” 

Techno slammed them both into the ground, the air leaving his lungs in a pained gasp. White spots blared against his closed eyes, the force tumbling against his skull. However, when he tried to get back up, Tommy simply stayed attached.

“Why, get the fuck off-” Techno seemed to be rambling now, frustration lacing his tone as he tried to peel Tommy off manually. “You’re not going to beat me by just holding on, get off.” 

“No.” 

“What?” Techno asked, his hand still pulling at the back of Tommy’s shirt. The motions were more angry than anything - less a calculated move and more reflective of playful fighting. He must be lowering his guard. 

“No.” 

“You’re such a fucking-” 

Tommy grinned. Above him, he felt Techno unbalance in just the right way. 

Step three - beat Techno. 

Arms straining and chest pounding, he pulled all his energy into twisting - his thigh and hip burned at the movement, yet he continued to wrestle with everything he had. In a flurry of twirling, grunting, and a slightly embarrassing battle of tug-of-war, he felt himself tumble over. Air brushed against his back. 

He pushed himself up and let his hands move true. 

There, right at the center of where Techno’s ribs met fleshy organs, was the tip of his wooden dagger. 

“Stop!” 

His lungs refused to expand. He could only focus on Dream’s words, on the wide-eyed Techno underneath him, on the blade in his hands. 

“The victor of the first round is Tommy!” 

The air erupted with cheers. 

“Good job, Mr. Blade,” Tommy grinned, disengaging from the position and hurriedly standing up. “Although, I thought you would have been harder to take down, seeing as you’re the high and mighty combat master and all.” 

“Haha,” Techno replied dryly. He easily pushed himself off the ground, ignoring the hand Tommy had outstretched. 

“Wow, I really thought it would have been harder than that. You’re actually shit at combat, aren’t you-” 

Techno brought a hand up and smoothly pushed his head. 

“Hey!” 

“You did well. That was a fun little trick you did,” As Techno spoke, he turned and wandered back into rudimentary shapes. “I wonder if you can replicate it.” 

*** 

He couldn’t. 

As he sat down heavily and focused on resting, he knew he couldn’t. Techno must have already realized his weaknesses, his plans - no one would do what he did unless they had no other options. He glared down at his hands, frustration welling inside him. 

When he scanned the color to his left, he focused on the bright yellow swathe. 

Maybe he could just go ape shit and throw grass into Techno’s eyes - that had always worked out well when he couldn’t get in close. 

He chuckled at the thought to disperse the tension in his veins. 

*** 

“Round two part two will begin in three-” 

Shit. He quickly scrambled to his feet, unprepared for the countdown. 

“Two-” 

His legs braced - fully prepared to sprint but unsure as to where- 

“One-” 

Oh no, he couldn’t even find the sliver of pink he needed, shit- 

“Start!” 

Instead of running, he stood frozen in his personal hell. 

“Techno!” He roared. “Come and fight me like a man, you piece of shit!” 

He needed a response, prayed for it. The blurred blobs mocked him with their presence - they, despite being only visible to him, had chosen to directly aid his opponent. If he didn’t get an answer, he would be royally screwed. 

No response. No step one. 

“What, do you want me to rush at you again? Too scared to come closer and get pounded into the dirt? Yeah, I thought so-” 

Good news - he finally got an answer. Bad news - it was in the form of an arrow. 

Only his instincts saved him from the tipless arrow landing in his shoulder. Panic rose in his chest, his eyes furiously searching for any sort of clue to where he needed to run. He almost felt like a child lost in the alleys again - except this time, he was being shot at by someone who knew his exact location. At the last second, he thought to retrace the path which the arrow had taken. 

An arrow landed in his ribs before he could even think to react. A second followed. Then a third. 

“Stop!” Dream shouted. The distance did nothing to hide the confusion in his tone. “The victor of the- uh, very short second round is Techno!” 

Baffled murmurs met his ears, doing nothing to soothe the slight sting from where the arrows had hit. He brushed himself off, brought his hands behind his head, and stared in the direction he hoped Techno would be. 

“Ouch, man,” He laughed, slightly uncomfortable. The blurred sky in his vision did not laugh back. “That was uh, kind of embarrassing. But just you wait! I’ll fucking crush you so hard, then I’ll win this entire thing-” 

In his periphery, he caught a flicker of pink. He quickly corrected his mistake and turned to face it. 

“Yeah, you won’t even know what hit you! I’ll just be like, boom, you know?” The pink, now firmly in the center of his sight, slowly morphed into a more recognizable figure. In his mind, he cursed Techno for wearing clothes that so easily blended into the sky. 

“Tommy?” Techno asked, voice calculating and unsure. Tommy stuttered at the sound, grin fading for a moment as he tried to understand its cause. 

Belatedly, his mind connected the dots. Remembered that he shouldn’t have had to correct in the way he did. 

Oh. Fuck. 

He took a breath and forced the cocky cheer back onto his face. “Yeah Techno?” 

Techno took the last step needed for him to make out the features on his face. Within them, a scrutinizing glare. It didn’t take a genius to know that Techno must have been putting everything together; damn him and his too-observant brain. 

“I need you to do me a favor,” Techno finally replied, slinging an arm around both his shoulders. “Can you point to where Phil is? In the stands?” 

He felt himself be forcefully turned towards the stands. Suddenly, the arm felt more like a trap than a friendly gesture. 

“And why do I need to do that?” He retorted. He tried to push at the hand gripping his bicep. It only tightened in its intensity. 

“Just do me a solid.” 

A nervous chuckle escaped his lips before he could temper the sound. He had always known that something like this would happen - he just didn’t expect to feel so hopelessly trapped. If he refused to try, Techno would know. If he tried, he would fail - again, Techno would know. If he did anything besides miraculously gain perfect sight, Techno would know. The one part of his mind not throwing its arms into the air and screaming began to pray for a miracle. 

“Tommy?” Techno prodded, one of his eyebrows quirked. 

Well, it never hurt to try. 

He squinted at the meld of unfocused hues, more concentrated on deducing his way to the proper answer than actually looking. If Phil was there to cheer for Techno, he would probably be wearing something light blue. He would also likely be near the edges - he quietly thanked his past experience for that bit of information. 

Techno’s grip tightened with the passing seconds. The pressure traveled from his arm up to his neck. 

“Uh, over there.” He pointed vaguely in what he hoped was the right direction. 

When he glanced at Techno’s face, his lips had tightened into a thin line. Techno finally released his hold - Tommy unconsciously relaxed - and stepped a few paces back. Right where he couldn’t make out much of anything.

“And how many fingers am I holding up?” 

“Techno, this is fucking ridiculous-” 

“How many fingers am I holding up Tommy,” Techno repeated, voice hard and cutting. He felt himself shift from side to side as he focused on the arm Techno held up. 

And- okay. 

He could see that there was a little divot in the shape, indicative of a finger being put down. He just couldn’t tell how many. Techno must have been holding them together to make it harder to discern.

He inhaled, exhaled, and wished Tubbo was at his side. 

“Three,” He said confidently. “Why are you asking such stupid fucking questions, I’m not-” 

“No.” 

Ice slammed into his stomach and stopped him in his tracks. “Huh-” 

“No,” Techno said lowly, each syllable tensed with barely restrained anger. “It’s two, Tommy. It’s two.” 

He tried to chuckle through his frozen lips, tried to do anything besides let himself get grabbed by the arm and steered towards the seating. 

“Tommy will no longer be participating in the tournament,” Techno announced coldly. “He is unable to continue fighting.” 

Idly, he wondered where it all went wrong. 

***

Techno placed him on the sidelines while he spoke to someone in low tones - he seemed hesitant to let Tommy out of his grip, much less out of his sight. The numbness in his fingers made way for rolling waves of anger. 

Now, he couldn’t win the tournament if he tried. 

He failed Tubbo. 

His mind helpfully supplied all the futures Tubbo could have had if he never tripped into him on that fateful day. Maybe Tubbo would have prospered, would have become a great leader. Maybe he would have become one of the citizens under Tubbo’s rule. Maybe Tubbo would have been happier. 

Techno reappeared in front of him, brows downturned and pink hair messy. He grabbed Tommy’s arm just as Dream began to announce the next matchup. 

“Where are we going?” He asked, hurrying to keep pace with Techno’s long strides. 

“Away.” 

The brittle feeling of broken glass stabbed at the back of his head - irritation. “That gives me no fucking answers, Big T. Now, where the fuck are we going?” 

Techno refused to respond, continuing to drag him along the familiar pathways. The distance between him and Tubbo kept growing. With each step he felt the stabbing rise, compounding on itself to the point he couldn’t ignore it. 

“Techno!” He finally yelled, wrenching his arm out of his grasp. As soon as he was free, he took a few hurried paces back. Techno held his hand up awkwardly. 

“Let’s go.” Techno motioned to the path ahead, looking half tempted to just grab Tommy again and continue walking. Tommy felt ready to pull out his hair. 

“Where?” He snapped, taking another step back. “Kidnapping is fucking illegal, you know.” 

“Phil’s house.” 

Tommy deflated slightly at the straight answer - his calm lasted only momentarily, his hackles rising again as if they were never lowered in the first place. “Why?” 

“To wait for him. Then, we can- we can figure out everything.” 

The sharp retort burning against his tongue died. Instead, he found himself studying Techno - not berating him. Techno - although holding himself with a tensed jaw and twitching fists - failed to hide the apprehension simmering underneath his skin. Really, he almost looked lost. 

“Figure out what, Big Man?” He tried for a sneer - in reality, it read as a grimace. Techno shifted on his feet, his fingers coming up to scratch at both his temples. 

“You,” He winced before hurriedly adding on. “Your eyesight. We’re going to, uh, get it all down and see where to go from there.” 

“Bud, I have bad eyesight - it’s not a fucking enigma.” 

“Can you even call it just bad eyesight? You couldn’t see my fingers from fifteen feet away - that’s a lot more than just bad eyesight.” 

“Well, it is what it is!” He burst out, hands clenching into fists. Techno froze, mouth forming a tight line. They both remained still for a second - neither wanted to make the first move, break the tense silence now stifling any other sound. 

At last, Tommy moved - he ran a jerking hand through his hair and sighed. “Just let it go. I’m going back-”

“Are you fucking insane?” Techno managed to land exactly in between sounding incredulous and affronted. “No. That’s- I don’t trust you to walk around the city by yourself; I’m not letting you walk blindly into a situation where you could very easily get mauled by a stray arrow.” 

Tommy glared at him, arms crossing against his chest. “I can handle myself just fine- stop fucking- I managed to beat you, Techno, and I’ve managed to do a fuck ton more before that.” 

“And if I was actually trying to hurt you? Would you have won?” 

They stared at each other - one seething behind frigid eyes, one broiling with heat. With a sigh, Techno went to grab his arm again. Tommy shook it off just the same. 

“Don’t be difficult-” Techno pinched the bridge of his nose- “Just follow me, alright? I’m not going to try to hurt you or some shit, I just want you to wait until Phil finishes up the tournament.” 

He brushed away the confusion at the name, reasoning that Phil must have taken Techno’s place - either way, it didn’t matter. “No. I’m going back.” 

Techno groaned loudly and Tommy threatened to snap. “I already told you, you aren’t going back there. Your eyesight-” 

“Doesn’t matter, Techno! It doesn’t matter!” 

A grin wormed onto his face when he realized that he meant it. 

He looked at Techno, at his delicate blue clothing woven with the air of royalty and humble living. He looked at his surroundings, at the blurring mess he couldn’t begin to decipher. He looked at himself - at how he contrasted to everything else - and grinned. 

He knew what mattered. 

With a mocking salute, he turned on his heel and ran back from whence he came. 

Memories of old blinked with every step he took, cobbled roads and brick streets transposing underneath his feet. If he focused, he could almost imagine the labored pants at his side - some from joy, some from pain, some from fear so strong it screamed - and the past footfalls of his only companion. He ran and ran and ran, only one destination on his mind. 

Bright colors grew in his vision. Unnatural - just like the swelling sounds of an enraptured audience. 

He spotted yellow - bundled and lowered, yes, but still there - and felt overwhelming elation lift him off the ground. 

“Who’s winning?” He screeched, uncaring of the two figures furiously sliding around in his periphery. 

Everything seemed to halt, only to reanimate with new fervor. He didn’t care. He - the kid who picked fights in the streets and even more in the city hall - didn’t care. 

“Dream,” Someone finally called out. He nodded to himself and watched the yellow blur move. 

With another few steps, he ignored the scratchiness of his throat and yelled again. “Where the fuck is he? Point me to that green bastard, right now!” 

A few flesh-colored blobs motioned to a specific direction. He followed, storming past the stands in a frenzy. 

“Tommy, what-” 

He locked onto the refining shape. Onto the bright green cloaked wrapped around a waist. Onto the blank mask decorated with only a smile. 

With a battle-ready roar, he barrelled into Dream and sent them tumbling into the grass. 

Dream struggled against him, hands coming to his shoulders and pushing harshly. Tommy resisted, doubling down and planting his feet in the ground - he didn’t get his tenacious reputation overnight, after all. He kicked and flailed and held steady until Dream finally paused for breath. 

“Three, two, one. I win!” 

He cheered at his self-appointed victory, giving one last shove before detangling himself. 

“That- that’s not how this works, we were barely even fighting-” 

“I win,” He asserted louder, ensuring his voice could be heard across the field. “I’ve won this tournament, I’ve fucking won it all!” 

“Tommy!” He turned quickly, zeroing in on the rapidly focusing figure of Tubbo. 

When he could finally see his face, Tubbo was grinning. 

“Tommy, what the-” 

“I won, Tubbo!” Tubbo laughed loudly, the sound threatening to make his insides burst. “No- shut up Dream, I won- I won it all and we can be done!” 

Tubbo snorted again and Tommy felt himself grin. “That’s- that’s not how it works in any way-” 

Tubbo glanced over his shoulder at the steadily growing swarm of blurry shapes. He buzzed quietly. Grinned. 

Eight years before, Tommy stumbled over his apologies with an unfocused dandelion in his hands. 

Running wildly into the unknown with Tubbo at his side, he knew exactly where he needed to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay okay I know it's kind of disjointed and kinda (really) bad but I'm honestly just trying to make sure I don't stop writing so,,,,?? 
> 
> I just thought it would be funny to make Tommy near-sighted okay? Especially set in a more fantastical setting because where the fuck is he going to get glasses? Target??? Bitch they don't have cars get the fuck out of here with that glasses bullshit
> 
> Heheheheehe lol this is also totally not practice for TATW hehe hmm?? Y'all hear something??? 
> 
> Anyways thank you guys so much for reading I'm really happy you managed to get this far;;;


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